Page 64 of A New World for the Irish Daughter

Whenever Maggie had gone into town with the girl, she’d still received some dark looks or even audible grumbles. She would not have put it past some drunken miner to stumble up to their home and say he was going to sort them out, just because he thought he could.

“I heard about Danny and your da,” Brendan had said. “Shipping out to the Klondike.”

Maggie had nodded. “They should be over the Chilkoot Pass by now,” she’d said, trying to smile.

She’d traced the journey on a map with them before they’d left—a steamer down the Inside Passage and through the Lynn Canal, a natural, narrow fjord, to the settlements of Mooresville and Dyea, then up and over the treacherous pass, and finally to Lake Bennett, where they’d build a boat to sail down the Yukon River to Dawson, a town formed for the gold rush at the junction of the Yukon and Klondike Rivers.

She hadn’t been able to bear to think of them out there in the icy wilderness alone—the Yukon was said to freeze by the end of October, with temperatures dipping as low as fifty below zero—and so she’d tried not to.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever see them again,” she’d confessed, trying to sound matter-of-fact, but her voice had caught and Brendan’s expression had softened.

“Oh,Maggie…” he’d murmured, and there had been so much tenderness in his voice that Maggie had had to blink back tears. She’d turned away quickly, not wanting to show her emotion.

“It’s all right,” she’d said, grateful she sounded stronger. “I knew it would come one day. Danny’s been desperate to strike itrich; even back in San Francisco he was talking about gold! This shouldn’t have taken me by surprise.”

“But it did?” Brendan had surmised gently.

“Well… I thought Da had gotten used to the good life here,” she’d admitted with an attempt at a laugh. “The home-cooked meals, the welcoming hearth…”

“You’ve made a very nice home,” Brendan had told her, glancing around in admiration, and Maggie had tried to see the humble cabin through his eyes.

In the year since they’d moved there, Maggie had tried hard to add welcoming touches—rag rugs on the floor, a sampler on the wall, pots of herbs on the windowsill. There were dried flowers from the summer in a jar on the table, and a single shelf of precious books against the wall. In addition to the furniture the cabin had come with—the cookstove and table and chairs—Da had bought her a rocking chair for by the fire, and a shelf for dishes. There was a water barrel in the corner and a basket full of balls of yarns and scraps of fabric by her chair. It was a simple place, one of the simplest places Maggie had ever lived, and yet she loved it. It had felt like she had finally found a home.

“Thank you,” she’d said, and Brendan smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, it had seemed as if they were friends.

“Would you like some coffee?” Maggie had asked, and he’d nodded.

“That’d be grand.”

She’d gone to the cookstove and stirred up the embers before reaching for the coffeepot. “Thank you for checking on me,” she’d told him. “It’s reassuring, to know there’s someone who is thinking about us.”

“Iamthinking about you,” Brendan had replied quietly, and a ripple of awareness and pleasure had shivered up Maggie’s spine. What exactly, she wondered, had he meant by that? “AndSheetka, too,” he’d clarified. “Was she much bothered by your da and Danny’s leaving?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie had admitted. “She doesn’t tell me anything, of course, since she still doesn’t speak. But… I feel her sadness.” As the coffee had started to simmer, she’d turned around to face him. “Or maybe just my own. It’s strange, being out here, just the two of us. It’s so quiet.”

He’d nodded slowly. “I can imagine. You’re a fair way out of town.”

“Yes… although I like it, mostly.” She had tried for a laugh. “Maybe I should get a guard dog, or a cat? Something to keep us company.” Brendan held her gaze in a way that made Maggie’s cheeks warm, and she looked away. “Anyway, how are you?” she asked. “O’Donaghue Dry Goods is taking Juneau by storm, I’m sure?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Brendan had replied with an easy smile. “But I think I’m doing well enough. The town’s getting bigger, it needed another store like mine, especially if we get a rush of prospectors coming through.”

Maggie had frowned a little. “Hamilton’s didn’t mind you setting up some competition?”

“I went with his blessing. I’d worked hard there, and he knew it. He was glad for me, and I was grateful.”

“That’s good.”

Again, the silence had stretched between them, comfortable yet expectant. Then the coffee had started to boil, and Maggie had turned back to the stove. Brendan had taken a seat the table, and that simple action warmed her heart. She’d felt so much less alone.

“Can you believe we’re here?” Brendan had asked with a wry smile as Maggie had poured the coffee and added a splash of canned milk.

“Here?” she’d returned with an answering smile.

“Here in a log cabin in Juneau, Alaska, drinking coffee with canned milk while the wolves howl outside.”

“The wolves!” Maggie had exclaimed. There were wolves in the area, but they tended to keep to themselves—and to the woods. “Maybe the owls.”